


Why Not This One? - (One-Shot)

by antebellum13



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Solavellan, classy, solasmance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 20:37:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7376539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antebellum13/pseuds/antebellum13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate, "how it should have happened" one-shot scene in the Crestwood glen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Not This One? - (One-Shot)

“Come with me, vhenan.”

Solas took Ranna Lavellan’s hand and led her out of Skyhold. They walked in silence for some time, down the mountain side. The land became greener the further down they got, though the air remained chilly around them. Finally, after almost an hour of walking, Solas brushed aside some hanging vines and led Ranna through a large opening in the stone.

The air was balmy and warm here, as though they had been transported to a different world. A moonlit clearing waited for them on the other side of the stone passage. A waterfall in the distance softly trickled in the background, and green foliage surrounded a small pond glittering beneath the starry sky. Two monumental Halla statues flanked the pond, towering over the clearing, and Ranna could feel a tickle of power against her skin, like the whisper of a magic long forgotten. With a start, she realized this was the same clearing in Crestwood where they had encountered a couple wyverns so long ago.

“The veil is thin here,” Solas said, pulling Ranna around to face him. “Can you feel it on your skin, tingling?” He gazed at her for a moment before placing his hand gently against her cheek.

“I was trying to determine some way to show you what you mean to me,” he continued softly, his hand falling away from Ranna’s face. She reached up and touched her face, the warmth of his hand not yet lost from it.

“I'm listening, and can offer a few suggestions,” Ranna said, smirking playfully. Solas returned it with a small smile of his own.

“I'll bear that in mind. For now, the best gift I can offer is…the truth. You are unique. In all Thedas, I never expected to find someone who could draw my attention from the Fade. You have become important to me, more important than I could have imagined.”

Ranna’s heart soared. “As you are to me,” she said, her eyes staring into his.

“Then what I must tell you…the truth… Your face. The vallaslin. In my journeys in the Fade, I have seen things. I have discovered what those marks mean.”

“They honor the elven gods,” Ranna countered, slightly confused.

“No,” said Solas, pain behind his gaze. “They are slave markings, or at least, they were in the time of ancient Arlathan.”

Ranna's brow furrowed. “My clan’s Keeper said they honored the gods. These are their symbols.”

Solas paused for a beat, before continuing in a measured tone. “Yes. That's right. A noble would mark his slaves to honor the god he worshipped. After Arlathan fell, the Dalish forgot.”

Ranna's eyes prickled. “So this is…what? Just one more thing the Dalish got wrong?”

Solas’ gaze softened. “I'm sorry.” A tear fell down Ranna's cheek as she drew in a rattling breath and Solas sighed.

“We tried to preserve our culture, and this is what we keep? Relics of a time when we were no better than Tevinter?” she asked, her voice choked with emotion.

“Don't say that. For all they got wrong, the Dalish did one thing right. They made you.” The corner of Solas’s mouth turned up slightly as he continued. “I didn't tell you this to hurt you. If you like, I know a spell... I can remove the vallaslin.”

Ranna looked down for a moment. A flicker of hope bloomed in her chest and she looked at him again. “If what you're saying is true…”

“It is.”

“Then…my people vowed never to submit to slavery.”

“I'm so sorry for causing you pain. It was selfish of me. I look at you, and I see what you truly are… And you deserve better than what those cruel marks represent.”

There was a moment’s hesitation as Ranna searched Solas’ face. “Then cast your spell. Take the vallaslin away,” she commanded. Solas smiled and took her hand again, leading her to a grassy spot close to the water’s edge.

“Sit,” he instructed, and they both sank to their knees. His eyes bore into hers for a moment, as if searching for her soul. He raised his hands and hovered them over her face as crackling blue magic erupted from them, washing over Ranna’s face. He moved his hands back over her until they rested upon the back of her head for a second, before letting them fall away.

A breathless silence followed as Solas appraised his work. “Ar lasa mala revas. You are free.” He took her hands again and they stood together. Solas shook his head slowly, as if trying to clear away a daze, and Ranna felt her cheeks flush under the intensity of his scrutiny.

“You are so beautiful,” Solas said breathlessly, as though seeing her for the first time. And suddenly, his lips were on hers, his arms wrapping around her waist, his body swaying slightly with hers. But just as suddenly as it had begun, he pulled away.

His eyes were full of sorrow when he finally spoke. “And I'm sorry. I have distracted you from your duty. It will never happen again.”

Pain flashed across Ranna’s face. “Solas…” He stepped out of her arms and her hands fell away from him.

“Please, vhenan,” he implored.

“Solas…” she said again, desperation in her voice. “Don't leave me. Not now. I love you.”

Solas shook his head sadly. “You have a rare and marvelous spirit. In another world—”

“Why not this one?” she pleaded as he continued to back away. Ranna kept moving toward him, unwilling to let her heart be broken like this.

“I can't,” he said in a broken voice, putting his hands up in defense. “I'm sorry.” He turned to leave the clearing.

Ranna grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “You _can_ ,” she pressed, exploring his eyes. He hesitated, captured again by her beauty without the vallaslin.

“Please,” she begged. Her hand found his cheek and she guided him to her, her lips meeting his again in blind passion and desperation. He stiffened beneath her lips, but after a moment, he seemed to melt into her kiss, his eyes closing against the overwhelming emotion that threatened to knock him off his feet.

Solas felt a wetness against his face and opened his eyes to see tears streaming down Ranna’s flushed cheeks. Shame shuddered through him as he wiped them away. “Oh, vhenan, please, don't cry for me.”

“Just…hold me. Please,” Ranna said in a trembling voice. Solas pulled her into his embrace again and they sank to the grassy floor of the meadow. He cradled her in his lap for a time, her head resting on his shoulder.

Ranna became aware of his fingers making trails up and down her arm, a touch like a feather, up, down, then back up, a soothing gesture meant to calm, but one which was having different effect on her body. She turned her head slightly, letting her lips rest against his neck and bringing her hand up to lay upon his chest. As she directed a soft kiss to the base of his neck, she felt his strong heartbeat stutter for a moment beneath her hand.

“Vhenan, I—”

“Shh…” she said, placing a finger to his lips. She turned in his lap so that she was facing him, her legs resting naturally around his hips. “I want this,” she said, pressing her forehead to his, “and so do you.” She drew back a little and reached up to pull the pin out that held her long hair in a bun. Her soft, raven locks cascaded down her shoulders and back. Solas gazed in wonderment, his breath hitching slightly. He had never seen her with her hair down before. It was truly a magnificent sight to behold.

Slowly, Ranna reached up to the nape of her neck and began undoing the buttons of her shirt. When she reached the bottom, Solas, unable to resist any longer, pushed his hands beneath the material at her shoulders and slid the sleeves down her arms, caressing her skin lightly with his fingertips as he went. She reached down to his waist and untied his belt, casting it aside, then put her fingers beneath the hem of his sweater and pulled both shirts over his head, bringing his necklace off in the motion.

Solas put his arms around Ranna’s waist and shifted so that he was kneeling with her still on his lap. He leaned her back gently, her ebony hair spreading beneath her and creating a contrasting ripple over the silver grass. He gazed down upon the beauty that she was, tracing his fingers over her pale, moon-soaked skin, from her navel all the way up to her neck, her delicate jawline and flushed cheeks, stopping at her temples, now free of the wretched vallaslin. His eyes captivated upon her amethyst irises, and he found himself wishing he could stay in this moment forever.

Solas descended his mouth upon Ranna, leaving fiery trails of kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, down the center of her sternum, teasing gently at her navel, stopping at the curve of her hips. His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her trousers and he gave them a subtle tug. Moving down, he removed her boots, then slid her trousers and smalls from her legs in one swift motion.

He sat back for a moment, taking in Ranna’s bare figure in awe. With a sudden hungry, almost animalistic look in his eyes, he threw himself passionately, lustfully upon Ranna, his lips meeting hers in a frenzied moment of need. He fumbled for a moment with his own trousers, and then, his knee deftly pushing her thighs apart, he was within her.

He moved steadily, surely, yet tenderly. It was careful lovemaking and desperate desire all in one. His eyes never left hers except for brief moments of pleasure, when he would close them, lost to the bliss. The clearing was quiet except for the sounds of their synchronized gasps.

Ranna felt it building inside her, the fire, the burning rapture. Solas felt a similar thing, and his smooth cadence quickened. His hand reached out behind Ranna's head, twining its way through her gloriously silky strands. He felt Ranna’s legs wrap around his waist as he moved within her, until finally, she gasped out in euphoria. His felt his own release peak and thrum into her, and he slowed until there was no movement left except the heaving of their breathless chests.

They lay there, still entwined, allowing their shallow breaths to subside. Solas moved so that he was beside Ranna, cradling her next to him. After some time, they finally dropped off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I adore Solavellan smut but I have so much trouble writing it too...dirty, if that makes sense. I envision a classy, intimate love-making. Solas is a gentleman. I hope you liked it! I'll probably do other one-shots in the future. I'm so obsessed with these two!

**Author's Note:**

> I adore Solavellan smut but I have a hard time writing "dirty" smut with these two canonically. All I think of with Solas is that he's nothing but a gentleman and a romantic at heart.


End file.
